


The Great Big Not-Regret

by StarWarsSyl



Series: Short Stories [14]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Darth Vader (Comics)
Genre: Aphra Misses Her Boss, Drinking to Cope, Gen, Regret, Retconning the End of the Vader Comic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 20:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13302693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarWarsSyl/pseuds/StarWarsSyl
Summary: Aphra does not regret what she did to Vader. Not... at... all......ish.





	The Great Big Not-Regret

 

Aphra did  _ not  _ regret getting the hell out of there when she had the chance.

She did  _ not  _ regret laying the groundwork for betraying Vader.

Nope.

_ Then why am I drinking myself to oblivion on some miserable backwater planet? _

“I ’m a survivor,” she muttered.  _ That’s what counts. I do what it takes to survive. Whatever it takes. Whoever gets left behind. _

But it hadn’t always been a con.

It was the memory of staring up into those dark eye plates and realizing  _ you’re my tomorrow  _ that had her currently trying to drown in a bottle.

Not because it had been a frightening moment, or a traumatic experience...

Just the opposite.

The tingle of fear had been what she’d been chasing all her life. The edge of disaster so close, so damn close that she’d always craved.

There was something heady about turning her back to Vader, knowing he  _ could,  _ knowing he  _ would someday  _ kill her, and the bizarre, thorough peace that accompanied it. In the presence of that merciless monster, she’d felt more alive than she could remember.

_ No, I remember something better. _

But that wasn’t the point. Sure, there had been better  _ circumstances.  _ Ones more likely she’d  _ survive. _ Ones she’d been in control of, instead of controlled.

But  _ content  _ was a sensation she wasn’t used to.

And for a few ridiculous,  _ insane  _ months, she’d  _ had  _ it.

Aphra groaned and thumped her head down on the table. It wasn’t good. Was  _ not  _ good. Loyalty to a  _ person  _ would get you killed, and when she was close to him, she  _ didn’t even care _ . It was  _ smart  _ to get out. She’d done the thing she needed to do.

_ Cut your losses and run and don’t look back. _

But here she was, on the brink of betraying him.

_ I’m good with betrayal. Betrayal’s my wheelhouse.  _

Planning a con usually felt good.

What she felt now?

_ Is the other thing.  _ Aphra reached for the bottle again, only to have the side of the tiny bar blown in by a disastrous amount of weaponry.

Yep. The droids were here.

Showtime.

 

* * *

 

She’d done it.

She sat wrapped in a blanket, Black Krrsantan piloting, and shivered. The cold caress of space... it should have worn off by now.

She’d betrayed Vader to his master. Spilled all his secrets but one.

And when left alone with her boss—  _ no, not my boss, just another mark, Aprha—  _ she’d counted on that moment they’d shared, so long ago.

She’d betrayed him. His lightsaber would not do.

Of course he’d given her the death she’d asked him to refrain from.

She hadn’t been lying, back when she’d made that request of him. It had been genuine.

_ You should kill me. It’s the smart thing to do. I know too much. _

_ “You currently have use to me.” _

_When the day comes... and I know it will... your saber to my back, please. Quick, no warning. And if I can have a veto... not an airlock. Hate the cold of space. Makes my insides shiver._

_“Are you so resigned to fate?”_

_ I am content to have my blood doodling in the margins of history.  _ You  _ must win. That’s what’s most important. _

Aphra found her fingernails had dug canyons in her palms.  _ Stop, stop. _

Just another mark. Another con.

The pressure in her chest was from exposure to vacuum.

She was alright. She was  _ always  _ alright. She’d get back to her life as quickly as possible— rummaging, stealing, selling, running,  _ all on her own whims _ , no Dark Lord of the Most Exalted Sithness breathing down her neck and giving her commands to do things that were  _ not  _ in her job description.

She wasn’t going to miss that.

She definitely didn’t miss the intoxicating danger of a power she couldn’t see that bent to his will. Didn’t miss hearing him walk into the Archangel’s cockpit, wondering if  _ this would be the time _ she had a heart-to-heart with a crimson blade, mouth gabbing on from sheer nervousness and to hide—

No, she hadn’t tried to hide.

She’d let him stare her right in the eye when she told him he was her next mission, and the next, and the next.

What she’d been looking for her whole life.

_ I was conning him,  _ she swore.  _ Couldn’t exactly get out of there by arguing. Fake it until you can get out of there. _

She could rewrite history if she needed to, couldn’t she? The  _ Empire  _ did it all the time, hell, even the  _ Alliance  _ did.  _ Solo  _ and  _ Sana  _ did, the whole great wide galaxy did, so  _ surely  _ Aphra could edit just a  _ few  _ details and come out of this none the worse for wear.

She’d certainly come out of it  _ richer. _

But the money didn’t feel as good as it had before. The risks didn’t feel as good. Conning the Rebels felt just a little boring and trying to survive her murder droids was becoming a hassle.

And every time she heard a heavy step in the door, her heart leaped into her throat, wondering if it might be  _ him. _

It made  _ no sense  _ for  _ hope  _ to be mingled with the immediate fear, or for disappointment to follow every time, because it was never her Not Boss.

Memories of her time working for him shouldn’t feel so sad in her mind.

_ We’re fine. It’s all fine. We’re okay. It’s good. Same as we’ve always been. I do what I do and I do it well and frip the rest of the universe. _

She didn’t have a cause. She certainly didn’t have a  _ person. _

Sure as hell didn’t have a  _ boss. _

 

 


End file.
